I recently listened to a conversation with Billy Joel, aka “The Piano Man.”  Years ago, he was my son Craig’s favorite singer.  Among other comments, Billy Joel said that he will never forgive himself for not being as good a musician as Beethoven. Talk about ambition!  Early in life I learned that Brahms was good.  Bach was great.  But Beethoven alone stood at the pinnacle of classical music composers.

I grew up in a musical household.  My parents met while playing in an orchestra.  In the 1930’s Mom played the trumpet in an all-girl’s band, and my dad was a professional French horn player.  If I wasn’t practicing piano, then I was listening in on Dad’s teaching.  While Mom loved listening to opera on weekend afternoons, for some reason, Dad seldom listened to classical music just for fun. Maybe he just wanted to relax, and it reminded him too much of work.

My parents urged me to become a doctor.  But that was not to be. I nearly fainted at the sight of blood, and besides, I had no desire to memorize everything a doctor needed to know. I told my parents they would have to be satisfied with accounting and law (I liked studying accounting).

Few of us know the answer to the question, “What will I be when I grow up.”  We find out by doing, and what we do often depends on the opportunities and the people we meet along the way. As to how far any of us get towards achieving our highest ambitions – that is in the laps of the Gods.

Recently a good friend asked me what I wanted to be remembered for.  Without a pause I answered, “I don’t need to be remembered for anything.  It won’t do me any good after I’m gone.”

As one of my own favorite singers Phil Oaks wrote, “I won’t be singing on this song when I’m gone, so I guess I better do it while I’m here.”

I understand Billy Joel’s ambition.  When I was young, I wanted to write better plays than Shakespeare.  That hasn’t happened (yet), so I guess, like Billy Joel, I have yet to realize my highest ambition.

But here I am, writing my blog.  As they say, life is what happens while you’re making plans.

Alan

President Harry S. Truman famously displayed a sign on his desk in the oval office that read, “The Buck Stops Here.”  He wasn’t referring to a dollar bill, but to his ultimate responsibility for solving problems. That seems entirely appropriate for the president of the United States.

Where does the buck stop in your life?  Are your parents responsible for what happens to you?  Your friends?  Your spouse?

Does it really make any difference who is responsible? If a problem is affecting your life – than isn’t it up to you to fix it?

A few months ago, I called my dentist’s office to make an emergency appointment.  I had a serious problem – a cracked tooth.  My dentist didn’t care what or who had caused the tooth to crack. I already knew that it had been a bad idea for me to bite down on a hard piece of candy.  Silly me! But if I didn’t see my dentist so he could repair the damage, I would be the one to live with the consequences – the ongoing discomfort of having a cracked tooth.

Any of us, at any given time, will have a problem, whether a broken tooth or paying the balance due on a credit card.  If it’s my broken tooth or my Visa card the problem is ultimately mine to solve.  I’m the one who will have difficulty eating or be unable to continue using the credit card.

Simply put – if a situation affects me adversely, then it’s on me to solve it. If I merely point my finger at someone else, my problem might become worse while they do nothing.  Also, by refusing to take responsibility I become a powerless victim.

As a practicing pragmatist, I believe that the best person to solve my problems is me.  I can delegate but, again, that is up to me. If my dentist can’t see me, I need to find another dentist.

So let’s all get better at taking responsibility and actually solving our own problems, rather than getting better at making excuses, especially to ourselves, and expecting someone else to do it for us.

All together now.  Where does the buck stop?

That’s right.  On the desk of the President.

Alan

I’ve run my own company for more than fifty years, and one of my guiding principals has been to hire and retain the best people I can.

Years ago, a professor at the University of Southern California School of Business developed “The Peter Principal,” which states that everyone in a business hierarchy who is good at their job will be promoted until they reach a plateau where they no longer have the skills necessary to perform well.  Then they will not be promoted again.  Essentially, this means “every employee tends to rise to his [or her] level of incompetence.”   That makes sense.  When we stop performing, we won’t rise further in the hierarchy.  But over time, that also means that every job is held by an employee who is not the best person to perform its duties.

But are we really the prisoners of our own capability – or lack of it?

I believe it is possible to turn the Peter Principle around and escape the prison of our capability to become the masters of it.

Someone I’m close to, I’ll call him Ben, recently left Facebook (now renamed Meta), to begin an Ivy League Master’s program. Before Ben left, he was highly regarded at his job.  He told me that many of his coworkers delayed tough decisions until they could consult with him.  But now he won’t be there to help.

He is transcending the prison of his own capability.  Just because he is highly respected at Meta does not mean that he must spend the rest of his business life there, rising through the ranks until he reaches his level of incompetence.  He is transcending that prison by moving on to develop new skills.

There is a lesson in this for all of us. Just because I can perform a task well does not mean that I must keep doing it for the rest of my life.  The cell door swings open, using the magic key of delegating.

While we should each do what we are uniquely suited for, we are seldom just suited for a single task, and there is probably someone else who can do our jobs, possibly even better than we do.  This is why I have delegated most of my business responsibilities to the talented employees I have hired and retained over the years – so I can move on to develop and explore new capabilities.

This leaves me free to take on new jobs that I am uniquely suited for and that I might enjoy even more – like writing this blog.

Ben – best wishes on your grad school journey.  Your potential is limitless.  I look forward to seeing how it turns out.

Alan